Never Leave You Alone
by WanderingSora
Summary: Tweek knows something is very wrong. Harbucks is closing, his parents are distant; strangers come to the house to see him. When Tweek runs away it's not because of creepy Kenny or the new and scary voices, but to escape sure slavery. But he wont go alone.
1. Chapter 1

**Never Leave You Alone**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

"Tweek? Tweek darling, you should get ready for school now."

Tweek's mother had begun knocking on his door at exactly six-fifteen in the morning every week day since Tweek began high school four months ago. She didn't seem to realize or acknowledge that the boy was always awake when she walked up the stairs; never having gone to sleep in the first place.

"R-r-right! I'm awake! C-can you make me some coffee?" The mug he'd kept by his bed to keep him awake was empty.

Tweek shifted, wincing into a cringing twitch as his legs were cramped and stiff from being curled up all night long, and moving them sent sharp knives of pain through his joints.

"Of course, dear, we already have a pot set. Hurry now, you don't want to be late again." He could hear her patient smile behind the closed door, and her footsteps as she left. Tweek shrieked and rapped his knuckles sharply against the wall five times to help get himself under control. It didn't really work.

"I-I'm never l-late... you g-guys just keep me here lis-listening to your stories..." Tweek pulled on dark brown jeans over his white boxers (a pair he kept hidden between his mattress when not wearing them—those damn gnomes hadn't found them—yet), and twitched his way into a gray button up shirt. Of course, his long fingers jittered too much for him to have any of the buttons on right; but Tweek's neck muscles contracted harshly on one side and he deemed it a lost cause.

Bolting from the room, Tweek tried to make it through the kitchen and out of the house before his parents could stop him, but, as always it was a useless endeavor.

"Come here, son." Tweek groaned at his fathers mellow voice. He shook his way over to the kitchen, sure to watch the morning shadows for the lingering demons surely angry for not catching him in the night.

Nothing grabbed him, and so Tweek made it into the kitchen. His mother was dressed as she usually did in a long dress, her hair done stylishly but not in a terribly modern way. Richard Tweak folded the newspaper he'd been holding, a frown on his face.

"W-what is it? I'm going to be l-late! Again!"

"Relax, son. Sit down and have a cup of coffee while your mother fills your thermos." Tweek twitched and grumbled but sat like he was told. A cup of steaming coffee was pushed in front of him and Tweek picked it up and took a long drink of it. Bitter, hot, and filling every extremity with warmth, Tweek's bundled nerves jolted with anticipated caffeine.

"So—so what did you w-want?" Hazel eyes flitted from Richards calm expression to the kitchen clock as it ticked closer and closer to seven-thirty, when the bus would arrive at a stop down the street.

Richard was quiet for a moment, and Tweek's mother sighed softly and sat down beside him. The two of them sipped coffee and said nothing and the clock ticked and ticked and Tweek's heartbeat throbbed rapidly in his chest, beating his ribs with anticipatory stress.

"Oh G-God! Something's wrong isn't it? Y-you have cancer? The g-government is coming t-to take us all away? Oh, sweet Jesus, they're g-going to cut our brains out, aren't they? Wagh!" Tweek grabbed his coffee cup and drained it in several thick gulps. "What are we going to do?" His voice broke shrilly.

"No, son, it's nothing like that. Though we may have people coming by eventually." Richard ignored his sons outburst, still calm as always.

Tweek looked between his parents hopelessly, but neither seemed ready to elaborate on their own.

"W-well? Nng-_Why_?"

Richard and Tina both looked up at Tweek, having gotten distracted by nothing, as usual, as if Tweek hadn't been sitting there waiting on them.

"You'll be late for the bus if you don't hurry, sweetie." Tina stood again and picked up Tweek's thermos from the counter and placed it in front of Tweek along with a smores granola bar pulled from the pantry. Her son was shaking and spasming in anxiety.

"What?" He yelped. "You're the ones who—b-but! What's going on?" Tweek demanded, feeling ready to cry and hating it. Both his parents left the room, as if they couldn't hear him at all.

"Augh! You two are horrible! Oh—Jesus-I'm going to miss the bus!"

Tweek bolted from the table and out the front door, screeched just outside on the steps, ran back inside and grabbed his backpack and thermos and scrambled out of the room again.

Thankfully the bus driver decided to arrive fifteen minutes late that day. A very cold and wet-socked Tweek was able to get onto the bus behind a few other students.

People he didn't know, friends he never made and didn't want.

He scooted past one full seat after another till he was near the back; and took a window seat for himself. The glass was so cold, but his thermis was still warm and it felt good in his hands.

Three stops down the road and the thermos was a third empty. Tweek's mind was racing with the vague not-coversation his parents had with him that morning. The voices of other students turned into noisy static in the background. Once in a while Tweek would be knocked out of his thoughts when a muscle contraction caused his temple to hit the cold window.

At the next stop they would pick up Token, Clyde and Craig. Tweek could never figure out why he was suddenly on a different bus route then they were—South Park wasn't that big and they all lived pretty close together.

Tweeks mind was still racing over empty asphalt tracks when the three boys moved down the aisle towards him. Clyde and Token were laughing over something or other, and Craig, blue hat pulled low, followed quietly behind them. He pushed Clyde and Token one seat past Tweek's own and sat down beside the blond. Clyde rolled his eyes.

"H-hello Cra—ig." Craig flipped Tweek off, grunting a nasally '_Hello_'.

"Hey, would you switch with us?" Tweek blinked and looked over around Craig. Clyde was talking to two girls who had the seat across from Tweek's. The brunette was giving them his version of a winning smile (a little slanted on one side, a little quirky, but brilliant). One of the girls rolled her eyes and swished her own brown hair over one shoulder; but she and her friend stood up and Clyde and Token shuffled into their seats. Immediately Clyde leaned back so he rested against Token.

"So, what's up Tweek?"

"Nng—ah! What's up? Oh God! My p-parents, man, they're driving me crazy!" He fumbled his thermos, thankfully it had nowhere to go really, and took a shaky sip. "They keep saying things! And—stuff! I have no idea what they're t-talking about anymore!" Tweek thumped his head against the seat and tried a calming breath that didn't help at all. The thermos between his knees Tweek's thin hands found his hair and gripped tightly.

"Uh... what?" Clyde blinked at him. Token glanced over but he was distracted by his iPhone alerting him to a text message. Craig's expression became a little bit—_more_. Nothing particular, just a little annoyed, just a little _more_ blank.

"I dunno, man, s-something's going on. It could be—wagh!-the end of the world!"

Craig's fist landed lightly on top of Tweek's head, bopping him not painfully but firmly. Tweek shrieked—to the startlement of a several students who quickly got over it—and quavered under Craig's fist, tugging his hair harshly.

"Oh God! Everyone's out to get me!" Tweek wailed, balled fists at his temple and eyes tightly shut. Craig sighed, took his fist away, and remained mostly silent the rest of the ride to school. Clyde and Token attempted to coax both the noirette and the blond into conversations, but Craig wasn't interested so early in the morning and Tweek couldn't focus at all on the words, so intent as he was on the niggling feeling that something was surely quite wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you very much to those of you who put this fanfic on follow and were expecting another chapter!

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><p>Chapter 2:<p>

Tweek and Craig had second and third period together. Tweek and Clyde had fourth and sixth together. Somehow Clyde and Token had every class together, and Craig shared first and fifth with them. Between fourth and fifth period was lunch, and the foursome met at their regular table (and if anyone had sat at there table Craig would scare them away with a few choice words and his favorite finger).

There was often nothing in Tweek's backpack for lunch of more sustenance than a granola bar, but still he would go up to the line and only buy a cup of coffee and a refill for his thermos, which was empty by then, instead of the supposedly—surely, Tweek would assure—contaminated cafeteria food safe for everyone but himself.

Clyde and Craig would send him their own individual _looks_ and then go buy their lunches when ignored and they'd all meet back together where Token held their table, all the while unloading his double layered lunch pack and the five or six tupperware stuffed inside and a curvy, delicate fork.

Tweek was pulling his granola bar apart into a dozen different bite-sized pieces while Clyde and Token gossiped about this and that. Craig was attempting to enjoy the shit food that the school provided for far too much money while ignoring the attempts to draw him into pointless conversations.

From their table they could hear the loud voices of Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski arguing. The same insults they heard in middle school and elementary school-("Stupid Day-Walking Jew!" "Fuck off you fat sack of shit!")-and the calmer voice of Stan Marsh trying to soothe them both drifted over their way-("Not again. Can't we just eat lunch guys? C'mon...").

Kenny was sitting with them as well, but he wasn't really saying anything, and even if he were it would be too muffled by the orange and black mask laced over his mouth to hear.

Craig sent the whole table an unfavorable glare and a raise of his middle finger—simply for reminding him they existed. Tweek's hand spasmed and four pieces of his granola bar shot across the table and onto the floor.

"Gah—oh God! That's four-twelfths of my lunch!"

"You should have eaten them, not played with them." Craig had finished his mashed potatoes and was chewing on gravy slathered hamburger meat.

"I had to ch-check for bugs! What if maggots l-laid eggs in it and I ate them and then they ate ME from the inside—inside out?" Tweek shuddered from the thought and examined a small chunk of granola, chocolate and marshmallow carefully. "Th-the eggs are really hard to see."

"There's no eggs in your granola bar, Tweek. Just eat it."

"Nnn-..." Obediently Tweek popped the first chunk into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed it quickly. This was followed by a gulp of coffee and the pattern repeated until the remaining seven pieces had been devoured as well. The blond rubbed his stomach, feeling an ache coming on. He was still hungry—the granola bar being the first thing he'd eaten that day—but he didn't trust school food and it wasn't as if he'd had money on him anyways for more than the three dollars he spent on coffee refills.

Token, smart and responsible slid one of his tupperware containers towards their skinny blond friend and raised an eyebrow when Tweek stared at it in alarm.

"It's just fruit salad, dude. Not gunna hurt'cha. Go get a fork and eat it."

Tweek yanked on his shirt, wringing the hem for a moment before nodding quickly and running off for a plastic fork. The three watched him go. Each keeping their thoughts on their scared friend secret.

"What do you think is going on with his folks?" Clyde eventually asked when Tweek inevitably ended up in line for another coffee.

Craig shrugged. "The same thing as always—nothing."

"Maybe, maybe not. Tweek seems awfully worked up about it."

"He's no worse than usual." Craig scoffed, though his eyes sought out the small blond and followed him now to the condiments display where forks and knives and spoons were kept with the ketchup, mustard, sugar, creamer and mayonnaise.

"Well, you would know." Token smiled at Tweek when the blond returned and received several spasms and a few grunts of stress in reply.

"I-I got the fork," Tweek announced, sitting down besides Craig again and opening the tupperware. "A-and coffee—ahh! Strawberries! The seeds! Agh—can't have those! Oh—cantaloupe—I like that!"

Craig spared Tweek a look—something half-hidden by his bangs that was slightly warmer than his previous expression. He watched Tweek chewing on the orange fruit with something like a soft happiness on his pale face and felt a little of that contentment himself.

Quickly Craig was caught up in a conversation with Token and Clyde over algebra and rock bands and Tweek finished the seedless fruits in relative silence. When lunch ended, they parted or kept ways as the last classes of the day began.

A few hours later the final bell had rung, and everyone rushed madly towards the bus circle, eager to get out of Park County High and go home. Tweek hung back, terrified of being trampled and waited for the majority of the crowds to dissipate. Craig, Token and Clyde waited with him, making sure their skittish friend actually got onto the bus and didn't have to walk home.

They were standing against the brick wall of the schools exterior, watching people jogging for their buses. Craig was smoking and looking generally annoyed with the world, and Token was showing Clyde something on his iPhone.

"D-do you guys wanna—wanna hang out this weekend?" Tweek interrupted with a squeak. "I could ask my parents t-tonight."

"Yeah! That'd rock!" Clyde grinned brightly, looping an arm over Token's shoulders and around Craig's arm. "We can't bum at Token's _all_ the time; I think his parents are starting to hate us." Token rolled his eyes and ducked out from under the weight over his shoulders.

"They wouldn't be so annoyed if you didn't eat them out of house and home, you ass. And maybe if Tweek stopped spilling coffee on the carpet and sofa."

"Agh! I'm sorry! I can't help it, man, being at your house is so much pressure!" Tweek swallowed the last few mouthfuls of his coffee from the thermos and dragged his nails over the shiny metal surface as he imagined Token's gigantic house. "So much _white..._"

Clyde sniggered and Craig rolled his eyes, pulling away from Clyde as well and starting for their bus. Tweek, Clyde and Token followed behind him.

Oddly, leaning against a pillar a few yards away, hood up and mask tight, stood Kenny. His posture was relaxed and careless, but his brilliant blue eyes were watching the four of them intently. Tweek seemed to be the only one who noticed him, and he shuddered, nearly grinding to a halt, an unusual feeling creeping coolly into his chest. Clyde and Token passed them all with barely a raised eyebrow and went to save seats on the bus. Craig started to pass Tweek as well, but stopped to wait impatiently for his friend.

"Nng—H-hi Kenny," Tweek mumbled, waving shortly. The taller blond lifted a hand in greeting, and the mask he wore crinkled a bit with his smile.

"Hi Tweek." Kenny muffled at him, raising a brown-gloved hand slowly. There was a hole in the forefinger and it was fraying at the hem.

Craig walked back over to Tweek, annoyed that the blond had stopped for no good reason, and grabbed Tweek's arm.

"They're going to leave without us, idiot, come on." The noirette dragged Tweek, whose attention shifted suddenly from being startled at seeing Kenny to panicking about missing their bus. Craig flipped him off and made Tweek get on the bus before him. Twitching to a seat across from Token (Clyde had claimed the window this time, sticking his tongue out at Token and laughing loudly) and pressed his nose to the glass.

Kenny was still there, looking now at the dingy yellow bus that Tweek was on. Blinking rapidly and twitching, Tweek kept watching as the bus pulled away and took them from the school.

"W-why is Kenny just standing there?" Tweek asked Craig in a high pitched voice. "He's going to miss his bus! A-and h-he has farther to go home th-then all of us!"

Craig shrugged, nose wrinkling in distaste. He wasn't a fan of Kenny, even though of all of Stan's group the poor blond was the least offensive. "Who cares? He's just being the creepy fucker that he is." Craig flipped Kenny off through the window—or held his finger in the direction the school had been, since they were too far from Kenny to be seen.

Tweek whimpered, his neck spasmed and his ear met his shoulder. "Nng—oh God, I can't handle creepy people. Too much pressure..."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Tweek watched the bus leave, the wheels splashing sleet into the air. The blond shook in place, waiting for the bus to get out of sight so he could go inside without fearing it maliciously backing into him. Once inside, Tweek clicks into place the deadbolt and the knob-lock and leans against the door for a moment, simply relieved to have survived another treacherous day of school and being outside.

The blond boy's relief was short lived, and anxiety slammed back into him like the beat of his heart when Tweek heard footsteps in the kitchen. Both his parents should be at Harbucks; father not home till after ten o'clock, mother not before six p.m. to cook dinner—so—who was in his house—Tweek didn't know.

Barely restraining the wild shriek bubbling up his throat like the blood he would surely spill if discovered by this intruder or intruders, Tweek whirled around to flee out the way he came in; but his fingers trembled too much to have the strength to hold the deadbolt turner, too sweaty to grip the doorknob. Panic filled every blood cell in his body, heating him up, making him sweat in fear. Surely he'd been loud enough to be caught, surely any second now the intruder would realize the useless son of the family he was robbing was home and would shoot him dead!

_I don't want to die! I—oh Jesus, please! Please let me escape! _Tweek finally turned the deadbolt. The lock echoed in the quiet house—at least it did to Tweek. He whimpered. _Please, Jesus! _He finally got a firm hold on the doorknob and tugged on it though it was still locked. That understanding had left him, and Tweek felt so very trapped, only seeing endless white before his eyes.

"Hello? Tweek, is that you?"

A lungful of air whooshed out of Tweek's body and left him bonelessly swimming in his mind for a moment. He slid down the doors surface till he was on the balls of his feet. Once realization came to him again Tweek shrieked.

"Oh God! H-how do you know who I am? D-don't hurt me!" He whirled around, knees up, arms flat against the wood, back pressed tightly against the door he couldn't seem to open, wild eyes watching a figure come from inside the kitchen towards him. A robber? A rapist? A MONSTER? No, no, it was his father.

"Son... what are you doing?"

Tweek dropped to his ass flat on the floor, shivering. "D-dad? Why are you home? Nng! Are you hurt? Sick? Don't come closer or you'll contaminate me! I don't want to get sick and die!"

Richard Tweak took a sip of his coffee out of a blue mug and regarded Tweek closely. "No, son, I'm not sick. I'm simply taking the day off. Your mother and I are going out for the evening tomorrow and we wanted to get some shopping done first."

Tweek's eyes widened. "D-day off? But you never take a day off! A-and tomorrow too? But... Friday's are so busy!" He pulled himself up, and moved closer to his dad, smelling the fresh coffee scent floating in from their brightly painted kitchen. "And—and tomorrow too?" Tweek repeated, not comprehending.

Richard nodded, following Tweek into the kitchen and sitting down again with some paper bags from a shop whose logo was an open book and a crescent moon.

"Mmm, yes, we've earned a bit of a break, we think. And you remember Christian, right? The part time employee I hired last month? He'll be working at the shop for us tonight and tomorrow." Tweek honestly didn't remember who Christian was at all, since he stayed as far from Harbucks as possible so as to avoid being forced into working a shift there.

"Uh—oh.. I s-see... Um! If it's okay, s-since you and mom will be out—c-can my friends come over tomorrow night?"

"Hmm. Possibly. Will they be staying the night?"

"I-I think so."

Richard was quiet for a moment, apparently thinking. It frayed on Tweeks livewire nerves. Eventually he said, "Well, that should be fine, son. Friends are the sugar, cream and caramel that makes every cup of coffee sweet after all."

Tweek sighed, filling his thermos with coffee to take to his room, relieved. "R-right, dad."

After that, Richard didn't seem to have anything else to say to Tweek, and Tweek didn't want to hear it even if he did, so to escape the building silence and the silence monsters the blond scurried upstairs and closed himself into his room to read and drink coffee and sit in the corner.

Hours passed and Tweek found himself falling into a strange pattern of anxious, useless meditations between when he closed his door and when his mother called for him to come for dinner.

Trying to find his 'center' has been increasingly difficult, as the noise in his head was hitting a crescendo it hadn't during the day. Maybe it was the otherwise silence of the room that had turned all the blond's thoughts on _drowning, _maybe it was the oddity of having both his parents home so early, of secrets and conspiracies and it _hadtobetheGOVERMNET._

Another deep breath.

_ Twenty plus five is twenty-five. Rainbows have seven colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet... Indigo children have indigo auras... Craig's last name is Tucker... he has a guinea pig named Doodle... his eyes are blue..._

Tweek's thoughts began painting his mind with calming colors. Somehow when his thoughts derailed to Craig his whole body settled down just a little bit. The tremors that sometimes sent his wrist smacking against the wall, or his forehead would still to minor shakes.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Drink from the thermos.

The shadows around him lengthened and darkened until the sun had fully set. Three nightlights had flickered into soft orange glows, but they only extended the shadows around the blond. Tweek's eyes jumped from the sharp angle of his bed to the closet to the abyss under his bed. He whimpered, a soft, puppy-like sound that mutated into a shriek with the light rapping of a fist on his door.

"Tweek, dear, please come down for dinner." Tina's voice through the door accompanied three more knocks.

"Gah! Oh—um, okay mom! I'll be ri-right down." He could almost feel her moving away slowly, wiping her hand on her apron as if his door had been dirty. Tweek stood and nearly bolted from the room, the hair on his neck standing as the thoughts of stuck doors and under-the-bed monsters lunging from behind zoomed around his brain.

The hallway outside was hardly better. His parents didn't seem to believe in electricity anymore; not in the places unoccupied or in the hallways, so the darkness chased Tweek room to room and up and down the stairs whenever he had to go anywhere in the house.

The boy was sure he would have been devoured had he not dove into the light of the kitchen just in the nick of time. His parents barely glanced up from setting the table to see their son sliding chest first over the floor to get into the room as if it were a home run plate. Tweek eventually caught his breath and stood, shaking from foot to foot.

His mom had a their meal laid out on the table for them. A large bowl of spaghetti with red sauce, white bread with butter, and a smaller bowl of broccoli. Of course, there were three mugs filled to the brim with a dark, heavy brew of coffee.

Tweek whimpered and sat down, looking at the bowl of spaghetti with trepidation; noodles made him nervous—squirming this way and that and splattering red sauce all over him and everything else. If he made a huge mess his parents surely would sell him into slavery...

As was typical, the family meal was unnervingly silent. No one said anything about the unusual event of having dinner before eleven at night, and after which he would come back upstairs with another thermos-full of coffee (the darkest, strongest they had at home with no less than five shots of espresso) and sit out the night, guarding his last pairs of underpants.


End file.
